The Den Of Desires

Name: The Den Of Desires
Rating: 5.0 (1 reviews)

Diamondlee

Short stories | Ongoing

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A taste of the lustful, forbidden, and unhinged. A den of desires is a blend of erotic romance in different shades that are spicily crafted to make your heart race, to make your toes curl and blur the lines between fiction and reality. The more you turn the pages, the harder you have to clench those thighs together to stay in control. WARNING: THIS BOOK CONTAINS DARK MATURE CONTENT - extremely dark mature content. Highly rated 18+. Expect trigger content and hard-core explicit well described content. If you are not one to read dark romance, please reconsider trying this.

R18+ Modern Secret relationship Love at first sight Sexual slave Attractive Werewolf One-night stand

Chapter 5 MIDNIGHT THIRST

The day before yesterday 07:58

Chapter 1 Book one: SEX ON A VACATION

BLURB

"You taste like sin, something I shouldn't want," he groaned in between his torturous licks on my pussy. "Yet, I can't stop wanting more. I can't stop devouring you."

Sera McFadden is a successful woman with a thriving career and a prince charming as her fiancé. Her life was perfect, well, except for one thing. Her sex life was too plain and boring.

When her fiancé decided to arrange a family vacation, Sera crossed path with her wild, dangerously attractive brother-in-law, Knox.

How does Sera resist a man who's hellbent on destroying her guards? Will she give in to her unhinged desires?

CHAPTER ONE

PERFECT ON PAPER

SERA

Jared grunted once, twice, then thrust one final time before collapsing onto me with a heavy sigh.

His sweaty chest pressed against mine, his breath warm against my neck.

I just laid there, staring blankly at the ceiling while he shuddered and mumbled something about how good that felt.

God, what the hell just happened?

He kissed my shoulder lazily, his hand fumbling to pull me closer, like he hadn't just spent a grand total of five minutes inside me before finishing and leaving me untouched.

His arms wrapped around my waist, and he nuzzled into my neck.

"That was...amazing," Jared breathed, his voice hoarse with exhaustion.

I plastered a smile onto my face, one I'd perfected over the months.

"Yeah," I whispered, forcing lightness into my tone. "It was amazing."

It wasn't.

It was nothing.

I hadn't even come close to feeling anything, not even excitement, not pleasure, and not even irritation anymore. Just a heavy, suffocating nothingness.

I'd gotten so good at lying that sometimes I almost believed myself.

Jared let out another satisfied sigh, tightening his hold on me like a child cuddling a worn-out stuffed toy.

"We have a big day tomorrow evening," he mumbled sleepily. "I have that meeting with the shareholders, and you have that thing with a client... you should get some rest, baby."

I nodded, even though he couldn't see it, his head already half-buried in my shoulder.

"Yeah," I said softly. "I just want to use the bathroom real quick."

He made a sleepy sound of agreement, already halfway to snoring. I gently peeled myself out of his arms, careful not to disturb him more than necessary.

The moment I closed the bathroom door behind me, I leaned against it and exhaled shakily.

God.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

My hair was messy, my lips swollen from forced kisses, and my brown eyes looked... empty. Dull. Like someone had turned out the lights inside me and forgot to flip them back on.

I moved towards the drawer beside the sink, the second one from the top, and pulled it open quietly.

Hidden beneath a pile of neatly folded hand towels was my small purple vibrator.

It was almost a ritual now.

Every time after Jared and I had sex, if you could call it that, I found myself in here, alone, seeking what he never managed to give me.

I sat down heavily on the closed toilet lid, pulling my knees apart before grabbing the vibrator, turning it on low, and pressing it between my legs.

The first buzz made me inhale sharply.

Finally... something.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back against the wall, letting the soft hum of pleasure slowly build where Jared's clumsy thrusts had left me hollow.

I moved the toy in slow, deliberate circles, teasing myself, dragging out the sensation because it was the only real intimacy I had anymore.

A soft whimper escaped my lips.

This was the only way I could feel anything. Not with Jared's hands. Not with his cock. Only like this alone, hiding in a bathroom with a piece of plastic humming against my clit.

I increased the vibration slightly, pressing harder.

Fuck, that felt so good.

Already, my toes were curling against the cool tile floor. My breath quickened, coming out in little gasps.

I imagined hands, not Jared's but hands that were rougher, and stronger. That knew exactly where to touch me, how to make me beg.

Someone who would pin me against the wall and fuck the frustration right out of me without all the sweet talking and missionary bullshit.

My hips bucked against the toy. My free hand shot up to cover my mouth, stifling a moan.

I couldn't get loud. Jared was right outside, dead to the world, but still, the thought of getting caught was terrifying.

Or maybe... thrilling.

My clit pulsed against the vibrator, my whole body tightening. I was so close.

I imagined someone grabbing my thighs, forcing them wider, growling filthy promises into my ear while fucking me senseless.

The tension snapped.

I came hard, my body shuddering, my thighs trembling against the edge of the toilet.

I bit down hard on my lip, trying to stay quiet as pleasure tore through me, relentless and sharp and fucking necessary.

When it was over, I slumped against the wall, panting softly, feeling the aftershocks in every nerve ending.

I turned off the vibrator and stared down at it in my hand.

God, what is wrong with me?

Why couldn't I just be satisfied with what I had?

A good man. A perfect life.

And yet...

Here I was, sneaking off to make myself cum like some desperate, sex-starved housewife.

I wiped the toy clean with a tissue, tucking it back into its hiding place, and smoothed my hair in the mirror.

I forced another smile onto my face, the same lifeless smile I wore when reporters shoved microphones into it and asked me how "blessed" I felt to be marrying Jared Reeves, billionaire heir and literal poster boy for Good Men Everywhere.

Blessed.

Right.

What a fucking joke.

Beneath all the polish and curated photos and matching white smiles... I was starving.

Starving to be wanted. Touched. Claimed.

I didn't want missionary with the lights off and a kiss on the forehead. I wanted to be pinned down.

I wanted bruises on my hips and teeth on my neck. I wanted to be used like I was something to lose control over.

And I tried everything. Every. Fucking. Thing.

The maid outfit? Not the boring Halloween kind, the nasty one. Mesh black lace, a plunging neckline that showed off the tops of my nipples, and a skirt so short you could see my wax job.

No panties.

I served him dinner in it, heels clicking across the floor while I bent over the table, made sure he could see the curve of my ass, made sure he could smell how wet I was.

"Do you want dessert, Sir?" I whispered as I poured his wine.

He kissed my cheek.

"Cute," he said. "Rain check?"

I should've burned the damn costume.

Then came the sexy bunny, baby-pink, see-through mesh clinging to my curves, a fluffy white tail, and a zipper I could yank down with one finger.

I straddled him on the couch, grinding him, told him I wanted to be fucked against the glass doors so anyone walking by could see.

He smiled, kissed my cheek, and said, "Not now, babe. My parents are on their way."

I was soaking wet, and invisible.

I got desperate. I took charge. I dragged him into the hallway after dinner at his parents' house, no panties, silk dress, and shoved his hand between my thighs.

"Feel how wet I am for you?" I whispered.

His hand twitched. He looked tempted, briefly, but still pulled away.

"Later. I promise."

Later never came.

So I tried role play. I was the bad secretary. The bratty student. The spoiled housewife. I bought a blindfold and silk restraints.

"Use me. Don't be gentle tonight."

He laughed. Fucking laughed.

"Babe, let's start slow, okay?" He said. "One step at a time. I don't want to hurt you."

I wanted to scream.

For fuck's sake! That was the point!

Even when I tried to suck his cock under the dinner table at his parents' place, he pulled back, gave me a look like I was a pervert.

"Can we not do this here?" He whispered.

I ended up fingering myself in their marble guest bathroom while the sounds of cutlery and polite conversation echoed through the walls, his voice the loudest as he chatted about golf and stocks.

No matter how dirty I got, no matter how badly I begged, he never met me there. Not once.

At this point, I didn't need jewelry or five-star dinners anymore. I have had enough of that.

I just needed to be fucked. Like a woman. Like a fantasy. Like I was craved.

But instead, I was getting married to a man who made love like it was a business transaction. Clinical. Neat. Two pumps and a moan.

And that's why I was here now. Flushed, raw, and still twitching from an orgasm I gave myself, and lying.

Lying to the world.

Lying to myself.

Because I smiled in the mirror and whispered.

"It's fine."

But it wasn't.

It was killing me.

I flushed the toilet for effect and tiptoed back into the bedroom.

Jared was sprawled across the bed, one arm thrown dramatically over his head, and his mouth slightly open as he snored.

I slid under the covers carefully, turning my back to him.

He murmured something incoherent and reached for me in his sleep, his hand landing heavily on my hip.

I closed my eyes and tried to will myself to sleep.

By weekend, we would be boarding the plane for the family vacation Jared insisted on, a bonding trip with both our families.

A last hurrah before the wedding.

I should have been excited.

Instead, all I could think about was how many vibrators I'd need to pack to survive the week.

****

"So, how was it last night?" Lana asked, waggling her eyebrows like a nosy little demon that she was

My best friend, Lana, and I were sitting at a luxurious corner booth inside Hazel Bloom, the swankiest coffee shop downtown.

It smelled like roasted heaven mixed with faint vanilla, and I welcomed the distraction.

Lana had been my ride-or-die since college; tall, honey-blonde hair always twisted into some cute updo, and a mouth that didn't know the meaning of filter.

I groaned and collapsed against the velvet booth.

"Do you want the polite answer or the depressing truth?"

"Oh, baby," She grinned. "You know I live for the depressing truth."

"It was...bad," I leaned in, lowering my voice. "Like, clinically bad."

Lana snorted into her coffee. "Define 'bad.'"

I sighed.

"He mounted me for like one minute, thrusted a couple of times, groaned like he was dying, and rolled off me like a log," I cringed at the memory. "Meanwhile, I'm just lying there, staring at the ceiling, wondering if Amazon Prime delivered my vibrator."

Lana burst into laughter so loud the old man at the next table gave her a disapproving side-eye.

She didn't care.

"Well, come on, Sera," she began when her laughter subsided. "He's rich, gorgeous, sweet. You can't expect God to make him a sex god too. That would just be unfair. He had to chip his shoulders a little, you know? Spread the flaws around."

"You make it sound like I'm ungrateful." I cracked a reluctant smile.

"Maybe you are. Maybe you're not," She shrugged, mischievous. "Nobody gets the whole cake and eats it too. You got a good man who treats you like a queen. So what if he can't make you see stars in bed?"

"You're right," I twirled my straw absentmindedly. "I'm lucky. I need to stop complaining."

Lana sipped her drink, then set it down with a decisive clink.

"Still... sex is important," she chipped in. "Maybe this little family vacation Jared's planning can help. You know-relax the mood, spice things up." She winked. "Beach, cocktails, tiny bikinis. Perfect recipe for hot make-up sex."

I laughed softly. "You make it sound so easy."

"Because it is easy," She lifted her cup toward me like a toast. "Be bold. Live a little."

Just as I was about to reply, my phone buzzed against the table. I flipped it over and saw a text from my assistant.

"Client's here early! Waiting in your office."

I grimaced.

"Duty calls." I shoved my chair back reluctantly and stood up, smoothing down my skirt.

Lana stood too, giving me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Go build your empire, babe, and remember, pack the vibrator just in case."

I rolled my eyes, laughing as I grabbed my bag.

"You're impossible."

"Love you too!" she sang as I rushed toward the door, already dreading the work waiting for me... and secretly wondering if Lana was right.

Maybe the vacation could be a fresh start.